


The Smiling Assassin

by figjam_fics



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 05:39:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3435503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figjam_fics/pseuds/figjam_fics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After winning the third Test, and describing Joe Root as having a 'cute smile' in a press conference Mitchell goes to find more beer. He bumps into someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Smiling Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> Written in December 2013.

Mitchell wasn't expecting anyone to be around when he walked into the England dressing room. He sauntered in as though he owned the place and starting nosing about, crouching on the floor as he peered into the fridge.  
  
He tilted his head to the left slightly when he heard a small sound behind him, and turned to look at the Englishman stood there, one hand on his hip and the other in his pocket.  
  
Mitchell grinned sheepishly. “I'm looking for beer,” he explained.  
  
That was the moment Joe Root's expression changed from an inquisitive frown to a smile. Mitchell couldn't help but smile back, looking a little embarrassed that he'd been caught.  
  
“You won't find any there,” Joe said.  
  
Mitchell allowed his eyes to travel over Joe's body – just for a few seconds – while he bent down to pick some trainers up from the floor. “We didn't win anything,” Joe continued. “Nothing to celebrate.”  
  
“Thought you might have some loser beers instead,” Mitchell grinned.  
  
Joe laughed and brushed a hand through his hair. “No, not even loser beer. Although...” Joe bit his lip and glanced around the room.  
  
Mitchell watched him, slowly standing up and closing the fridge. “Although what?” he asked.  
  
Joe didn't say anything, but disappeared into the physiotherapist’s room. Mitchell took one step forward as if to follow, then hesitated.  
  
“I found you a beer!” he heard Joe exclaim a few seconds later, and he followed the Yorkshireman into the room. Joe held out the single can. “It's the ice bath beer,” he explained.  
  
Mitchell laughed. “What's an ice bath beer?”  
  
“It's when someone really, really doesn't want to get into the ice bath. So, if you get in, the beer joins you and afterwards you get to keep the beer. But only if you stayed in there the whole time you're supposed to.”  
  
Mitchell grinned. “I'm going to pass that idea onto Boof.”  
  
Joe smiled, a big full grin that Mitchell found himself unable to take his eyes off, as he stepped closer to the Australian bowler. He kept his hand outstretched, right around the centre of the can, as Mitchell reached out to take it. His long fingers wrapped over Joe's. Neither of them moved, but Joe kept talking, that smile still on his face.  
  
“It's only a treat after a really long day in the field for the bowlers, or if you scored a daddy hundred. You don't get a beer every single time you get into the ice bath, or we'd all be drinking more than we're allowed.”  
  
“You boys have no fun,” Mitchell said.  
  
Joe's eyes met his and Mitchell swallowed a little, considering that perhaps he had angered the England players a bit too much over the course of the last three Test matches and that maybe now they had won back the Ashes it was time to stop rubbing it in.

But Joe kept smiling. “We have fun,” he said, his thumb moving to rest over Mitchell's.  
  
Mitchell swallowed, glancing at the can they both still held. He looked back at Joe who was still smiling. “You never get mad, do you?” Mitchell said as he watched him.  
  
“I thought you liked my smile?” Joe grinned at him. “What was it you said? Cute?”  
  
Mitchell felt his face heat slightly. “I might have said that, yeah.”  
  
Joe took a small step toward him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Mitchell tightened his grip on the can, suddenly noticing Joe's thumb rubbing ever so slightly against his.  
  
“Swanny keeps teasing me about it," Joe murmured, his thumb keeping up the slow torture against Mitchell's, mostly stroking against his knuckle, occasionally moving further down against the full length of it.  
  
“Sorry about that,” Mitchell said, watching Joe's mouth.  
  
“I could forgive you,” Joe said, his wide smile turning into something slightly more seductive than Mitchell would ever have imaged was possible. He licked his lips again, and Mitchell held back the small sound he felt forming in the base of his throat.  
  
“Could forgive me?” Mitchell managed to say.  
  
“Will the Australian team miss their fast bowler for a while, or do you have some time?” Joe asked.  
  
“Oh I... I guess I have some time. Why?”  
  
Joe broke the small gap left between their bodies. “Well, I thought you should make up for Swanny's teasing. Since it was your fault and all.”  
  
Mitchell nodded a little. “I guess I should. What did you have in mind?”  
  
“Put the can down,” Joe said quietly, looking Mitchell right in the eye as he dropped his own hand from it.  
  
Mitchell grinned a little and bent down to put it down on the floor. As he stood up, Joe's arm snaked around his waist, pulling their bodies tight together. Mitchell realised he couldn't stand looking at that grin any longer, as he pressed their lips together. He made a sound of surprise when Joe's hand found its way into his hair, tugging a little at the strands.  
  
Mitchell quickly discovered that mouth was good at more than just smiling, as Joe resisted the Australian's attempts at deepening the kiss, pulling back just as Mitchell tried to push his tongue into his mouth.  
  
He kept their lips close with teasing, breathy kisses along with the occasional bite of Mitchell's bottom lip, but always, always refusing the hard, frantic kiss the fast bowler so desperately sought. Mitchell's hands roamed over Joe's body, reaching down to squeeze his arse, relieved when he heard Joe's quiet moan.  
  
Keen to reassert some control of the situation, Mitchell hands found their way under Joe's shirt, his fingers brushing over his nipples. He began to kiss down Joe's neck, pleased when he tilted it to give Mitchell more access and he sucked at the join with his shoulder. 

But just as Mitchell felt as though he had decided where the teasing of Joe's neck would lead and how he would get the good hard kiss and the rest, Joe dropped down to his knees in front of him.

“Oh good fucking god,” Mitchell gasped as he looked down at him.  
  
Joe's fingers hooked into his trousers, pulling them down, and Mitchell bit back a groan as the fabric moved over his length.  
  
“Do you want to lean against the wall?” Joe asked, and Mitchell just nodded, taking a few steps back.  
  
He watched as Joe slid back towards him before pulling his trousers right down to his ankles. He rubbed his cheek against Mitchell's cock, still confined by his grey boxers, and Mitchell shuddered, his fingers brushing through the Englishman's hair.  
  
Mitchell pushed his hips forward slightly, desperate for more contact, but just as he had done with the kisses, Joe didn't give him what he wanted. Mitchell shuddered as Joe's lips kissed over his hips, his fingers ghosting their way along the inside of his thighs, dipping underneath his boxers, before he finally, finally began pulling them down.  
  
Mitchell made a soft sound of relief, the back of his fingers finding Joe's cheek and he stroked the soft skin. He felt Joe tilt his face into the touch just as the blond wrapped his hand around the base of Mitchell's cock.  
  
The Australian's knees shook as he tried to find somewhere to find purchase on the wall behind him. Joe's lips feathered against his length, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste.  
  
“Your mouth,” Mitchell breathed out, shaking his head slightly. “I can't believe how...”  
  
Joe never found out how that sentence ended as he wrapped his lips around Mitchell's cock and took him as deep as he could. Much to Mitchell's relief, he didn't hold back this time, finding a steady rhythm between his mouth and his hand. Joe removed his hand for a few seconds to push his own trousers and underwear down and wrapped his hand around his own cock.  
  
That sight was enough for Mitchell.  
  
“I'm... can't...” he managed, trying to give Joe as much warning as he could before he came, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as he watched the blond on his knees in front of him. He almost couldn't believe his eyes as he watched Joe swallow, holding his length in his mouth until Mitchell finished.  
  
The second Joe's tongue flicked out to lick his bottom lip, Mitchell dropped down to his knees and wrapped his own hand around Joe's cock. Joe's head dropped onto the Australian's shoulder as he rocked his hips back and forth into Mitchell's hand.  
  
Mitchell curled his fingers in Joe's hair, pulling his head up, and kissed him hard, finally getting everything he craved from that mouth. Joe made a soft noise and broke the kiss as he came in Mitchell's hand, his head dropping back against Mitchell's shoulder as he nuzzled his neck and kissed the skin there.  
  
Mitchell listened to their deep breathing as he sat down properly on the hard floor. Without a thought, he wiped his hand clean on his trousers, and laughed as Joe muttered “you've made them all dirty.”  
  
Mitchell reached over Joe to pick the can of beer up from the floor, wrapping his arm around Joe's shoulders as he did so. He opened the can and held it out to the Englishman. Joe smiled and took a sip.  
  
Mitchell accepted the can back and looked at Joe's face. “You know something, Rooty?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don't think I'm ever going to be able to look at you in the same way again.”  
  
Joe just grinned and pulled his boxers up as they shared the warm beer between them.


End file.
